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Fire Fight/Fire Fight
Part One: The Third Season, Moon Three, Sunrises 19, 20, 21 "Jump," Forestblossom instructed coldly, eyes flickering as Hollypaw pushed with her hindlegs, catapulting over her assailant's head and landing in a roll behind him. Tigerpaw, whose russet pelt was speckled with golden-brown dust, spun around, but Hollypaw's unsheathed claws had already flashed across his underbelly, eliciting a squeak. With renewed vigor, he lunged at her. Hollypaw jumped on top of Tigerpaw, who was laying flat on his back in the dirt. She placed her paws on his stomach, standing firmly on top of him and grinning from ear-to-ear. Tigerpaw went limp, but Hollypaw didn't loosen her hold, and rightfully so, for Tigerpaw grabbed her shoulders and rolled her over, until she was struggling and kicking beneath him, her hindlegs scoring long, burning marks in his belly fur. She could feel warm blood dripping onto her white belly fur, and then-- "That's enough, now," Mountainpool called, bounding towards the grappling pair. The two leaped apart at the warrior's command, and stood obediently side by side, awaiting next instructions. Mountainpool was one of the only kind mentoring warriors, the rest were cold-hearted (and ShadowClan) and cruel, and were chosen for the job because they delighted in seeing the apprentices battle each other. Hollypaw shuddered at the thought, hoping that if she did complete her training and become a warrior (though that depended on the outcome of the next Fire Fight), that she wouldn't be chosen to be a mentoring warrior. They were commonly despised by most apprentices for their cruelty and cold pleasure, as well as their harsh techniques and rough, abrasive comments. They were feared by nearly all of the apprentices, and Hollypaw would rather be loved as a Nurseryplace queen than be hated as an esteemed (in the eyes of Patchstar, at least) trainer and feared and hated by all. Roseflash, one of the only female warriors, stood squarely beside Forestblossom as the older she-cat introduced the newest technique. Beckoning Mountainpool forward, Forestblossom declared a demonstration in order. Mountainpool's blue eyes flickered stubbornly, and he braced himself as the she-cat leaped toward him, paws outstretched and claws unsheathed. Mountainpool was flung back as Forestblossom heaved upwards with her shoulders, the bony protrusions from her back digging into Mountainpool's stomach and lifting him from the ground. His dark, blueish gray pelt lay motionless at the base of one of the surrounding trees, which caused Forestblossom to smirk. "Back into your training pairs, I want to see that executed properly and efficiently. If your opponent hasn't got a bruise or a cut, try again until they have." Hollypaw and Tigerpaw turned to each other, fear etched in both pairs of eyes. "I'll be the one on top, I guess," Hollypaw said weakly. "I got to pummel you in the last round." Tigerpaw grinned. "Pummel? I beat you! But I'm not protesting." The two chuckled, and Hollypaw backed a way a couple of paces, bracing herself for Tigerpaw's attack. The dark red tom took a deep breath, then darted forward, moving as swiftly as a hare and smoothly as a snake. His paws never faltered as they hurried over the dusty ground, and he had thrown his friend back in less than a heartbeat. Hollypaw found herself lying dazed at the base of a tree. Tigerpaw rushed over. "Are you all right?" he mewed, voice edged with concern. Hollypaw shrugged her shoulders, wincing as one of her fresh cuts rubbed against the rough bark of the tree, and hauled herself to her feet. "You two are making particularly good progress," Blueshine commented as he strolled past. The sun reflecting off of his glossy, RiverClan pelt caused Hollypaw to mime squinting at Tigerpaw after the mentoring warrior had turned his back and was sauntering towards Fluffypaw and Fuzzypaw, who were lying in a heap at their other sister Furrypaw's feet. "Let's get back to camp now," Mountainpool called out. The apprentices dragged themselves, injury-spattered, after the tom, taking the well-worn dirt path in single file, winding along the trail back to camp. They were talking quietly amongst themselves, not necessarily cheerful, but content and tired, eager for a nice long nap in the dens. Hollypaw yawned as they reached camp, stretching her legs and turning towards her sleepy friend. "I'm going to visit Mum in the Nurseryplace, want to go see your mother?" Tigerpaw's reply was stifled by a yawn. "I-I'm a bit tired. I think I'll be going..." He tripped off to the dens, already sinking to his paws in one of the outer nests. He would have been chilly, on the edge of the spacious, circular den, but it was probably worth it just to sleep. The day had been exhausting, and he wasn't even alert enough to get his wounds attended to. Either that, or he was too lazy to brave the long, winding line of apprentices trailing out of Smokeburst's den. Hollypaw giggled at Tigerpaw's drowsiness, and took the path next to the tunnel to the dirtplace, leading to the separate camp for all of the queens. Tall birch trees arched high over Hollypaw's head, forming a leafy tunnel of sorts that eliminated all forms of claustrophobia for any cat or apprentice who decided to visit their mothers or friends in the Nurseryplace. One of the apprentices had suffered a panic attack entering the dirtplace, declaring in a hysterical voice that it made him think of the tunnel to the Ring of Fire, where many cats met their deaths. After the strongest cat fought, the ShadeClan leader...remained leader. The noises of the Nurseryplace reached Hollypaw before the sights did. The noise of nearly twenty queens plus their attenders gossiping was like the chatter of starlings, incessantly loud with no visible end. Hollypaw sighed and pushed through the long, hanging strips of lichen that formed a shimmering green curtain into the realm of gossiping she-cats. "Hollypaw!" The small tortoiseshell and white she-cat turned at her name, to find a fluffy white she-cat barrelling towards her. Her eyes were like chips of ice; frosty blue and twice as hard, but she gave a warm purr as she tackled her friend and littermate. "Winterpaw," Hollypaw enthused, grinning. "How's Mum doing?" "Great," Winterpaw replied. "All of the queens' kits are due in a half moon - some will be born a few sunrises before and after, but Mum's seem as though they'll be born the day of! You can tell, see, Mousefern's kits are already squirming and causing pain, they'll probably be really early, whereas Kinkfoot's kits are barely creating a bump in her belly. They'll probably be really late. Songbird's kits, though, have created quite the bump but haven't begun to kick. Our Mum's kits are going to be perfect." "With you attending to them, I'm sure they well," Hollypaw said earnestly. Winterpaw beamed, and with a farewell to her sister, Hollypaw began the trek back to the Main Camp. By the time she reached the apprentices' den, Tigerpaw was already curled up, his reddish tail tucked over his nose. He cracked one eye open when Hollypaw picked her way amongst her slumbering Clanmates, a leaf-green orb in the dim light of the setting sun. His eye was already drooping closed when Hollypaw paced in a circle, deemed her nest fit to sleep in, and settled down herself. "Good night, Tigerpaw." His reply was faint, but Hollypaw could hear it, and it brought a smile to her face. "Good night, Hollypaw." ∞ "I want this piece of prey!" "Get your own, you slimy bird-brain!" "Me? Bird-brain? Bird-brain?! I'll show you who has a bird-brain, Goose''paw! Just let me get close enough to your head and we can remove that brain of yours to check and see!" Hollypaw opened her eyes. Pale dawn light was trickling through the small gaps in the brambles above her head, and she sat up, her ears just brushing the tips of the sharp leaves. Prodding Tigerpaw, who was fast asleep with one paw over his face as though engaged in a nightmare, Hollypaw began to groom herself. Nothing like being awoken by Dogpaw and Goosepaw arguing over a piece of prey. "Apprentices!" "Ooh, Forestblossom's got them good," Tigerpaw declared, sitting up in his nest. He swiped a paw over his face to calm his disheveled fur, and began to creep through the vacated nests towards the entrance of the den. He poked his head out to see the brown-and-white tom cowering in front of Forestblossom, where Dogpaw was looking proud that he hadn't been the one to earn himself a scolding. Tigerpaw scampered over to the fresh-kill pile, plucking two shrews out, and settled down beside a patch of raspberries. Tossing one shrew to his friend as she approached, he tucked into his breakfast. "We'll be going to training soon," Hollypaw said, licking her lips and pushing the remains of her shrew beneath the bush. "Let's start stretching." And so the two began their workouts, racing from one end of camp to the other in the special portion designed purely for the running. They practiced leaping hurdles - piles of leaves, bushes, each other - and dodging attacks. They wriggled beneath the low-hanging branches of trees and hauled themselves up through the branches until their tails touched the sky. They stretched themselves, they pushed each other to their limits, and then they finally stopped, breathing heavily, brows shining with perspiration. "We'll be the...most...warmed up there..." choked out Tigerpaw, but a grin graced his face. "Apprentices!" yowled Forestblossom for the second time this morning, but this time as more of a summons than a prelude to admonishment. Tigerpaw and Hollypaw scampered over, their intense workout causing the lighthearted jog to be somewhat of a reprieve. "We'll be training again today," Mountainpool mewed, taking over from his colleague. "We'll practice this one move..." ∞ "Mum?" "Yes, dear?" "I'm nervous," Hollypaw confessed quietly. She glanced around furtively to make sure no one had caught her words, and then continued in a low voice, "About the Fire Fight. Tigerpaw thinks I'm going to beat out the lot of them, and though I doubt it, I'm worried. What if I do? I'll surely die fighting Patchstar." Songbird smiled, patting Hollypaw's protrusive shoulders with her tabby tail. Her eyes, so similar to her daughters, sparkled like the glow from the dying sun. "Hollypaw," she said seriously, all traces of humor gone from her face. "Before I became a queen, I was an apprentice, just like you. I was one of the strongest in my generation, and a lot of cats thought I would go to the Fire Fight. But at the last moment - I let my best friend, a tom, just like yours, beat me. I was too cowardly to try and fight, and so I let my friend go in my place, because he was stronger than me. Hollypaw, I could have beaten him. But I didn't. I sent him to his death." Her eyes clouded, as though just thinking of the memory brought physical pain to her small body. Hollypaw was forcibly reminded of her mother's youth. Patchstar hadn't been leader for long, only six seasons, but he had won the last Fire Fight. Her mother was an apprentice from the last year - apprentices had died that year from the cold and lack of prey, and her mother, Songbird, was one of the few she-cats that survived. She was one of the youngest queens in the Nurseryplace - Hollypaw was from her very first litter. "So..." Hollypaw spoke slowly, still trying to comprehend her mother's words. "What you're saying is...I could always back out at the last moment? In my very last fight, or any before, I could...lose?" Songbird looked aghast. "I'm so sorry, Hollypaw, that's not what I meant. I don't know why I told you that, it just...came out, I suppose, but that's not what I want you to do. You're a wonderful cat, Hollypaw, and I know you have the strength to be great. I don't want you to make the same mistake I did." "So you don't want me to lose," Hollypaw replied, making sure she had heard her mother right. "I don't know, Hollypaw! All of my mistakes, I don't want you to make the same ones. But at the same time - I don't want my little she-cat to be killed! Patchstar is ruthless, don't let Silverqueen hear me say this, but he's weak. He uses this great leader facade to hide his fear. He almost lost his last Fire Fight, I was there, all of the queens were. Silverqueen told us it was a trick of our eyes, that he had won by a lot - but he hadn't, Hollypaw! If you make it far enough to be in the running, observe your opponent. You're clever enough to beat a fox, and strong enough to beat a badger. But you have to be clever, strong, and have a little something else to beat a leader. I know you can do it if you make it, Hollypaw." "Don't send me mixed messages," Hollypaw said crossly. Songbird gave a rusty purr. "That's my little kit," she mewed, smiling. "Now run along and have a chat with your sister. Soon enough, you'll be having more siblings." She gestured towards her distended belly with her tail. Hollypaw puffed her chest out in pride, an action she realized she would be silly not to see on Tigerpaw in that very moment. "I love you, Mum," Hollypaw chirped, giving her mother a quick lick on the cheek. She scampered off, and as soon as her tortoiseshell tail was out of sight, Songbird's smile slipped from her face, and her eyes grew distant, overcome with a sad glow. "Oh, my daughter, how I love you too. But I fear that if you get as far as the Ring of Fire, there's no chance of your prevail." Part Two: The Third Season, Moon Three, Sunrises 27 & 31 "Five days," Hollypaw said in an awed voice. "Tigerpaw, that's five sunrises from now. We'll start...we'll start fighting each other. Who knows which of us will be killed? Tigerpaw--" Her voice rose, bridging on the edge of hysterics. Her golden eyes were wide as she continued. "Tigerpaw, what if ''we die?" The red tom opened an eye. He was still curled up in his nest, the moon sending shafts of white light onto his pelt through holes in the brambles. Hollypaw was sitting bolt-upright in her own nest, scraps of bracken and moss dangling off of her head. Her eyes were wide in terror, as though she had been plagued by nightmares of the fights she would endure in the coming one and a half moons. Tigerpaw rolled over as Hollypaw began to quiver, her voice rising hysterically and her breathing quickening. "We're not going to die, Hollypaw," the tom mewed tiredly. "Go to sleep." It was easier said than done, and as Hollypaw lay trembling in her nest, the things of her nightmares infiltrated her blissfully blank mind, sending shivers running up her spine. She had to bite her lip to keep a scream from tearing itself from her throat - and as she lay there in the silence, trying to stifle all fears, the real terror began to set in. ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ "They start tomorrow," Tigerpaw said, his voice practically blank of all emotion, like a raspberry leaf before the juice from the berries run down its perfect green exterior. "The fights." "I heard it was Blackpaw against Goldpaw," Hollypaw replied, in a voice equally devoid of expression. The two cats were sitting on one of the ground-brushing branches of the largest oak tree in ShadeClan territory, the White Oak, named for its characteristically white bark. Hollypaw's tortoiseshell-and-white tail twitched in the slight breeze blowing in from the lake, and her ears were perked for the noise of any piece of prey. Her muscles felt as though they were vibrating, quivering with pent-up energy she needed to release. Beside her, Tigerpaw felt the same, all strung up with nowhere to let go of that energy. Brightening a bit, Hollypaw turned to Tigerpaw. "I hear the stream is running really well, and it's warm. Do you want to go for a swim?" Tigerpaw purred, emotion flooding back into his voice like fish returning to a river just after Newleaf. "You're on!" "I'll race you," Hollypaw challenged, and before her friend could reply, she had used her powerful hindlegs to propel herself off of the branch, hitting the ground on all four paws and breaking into a sprint. Tigerpaw gave a mrow! of protest before racing after her. The pair heard the stream before they saw it. Looping around a bend in the trees, they saw a few of the apprentices already splashing in the depths of the water, grinning and having fun. Relaxation was hard to come by the days before the fights began. Most apprentices had been training rigorously in the days leading up to the aforementioned fights, not excluding Hollypaw and Tigerpaw. The two had been mock-battling all day, their pelts scorched by the warm sun, sweat pooling on their faces as they tumbled beneath the trees, claws unsheathed and blood welling along their flanks. Hollypaw didn't slow down as she swung around the trees, and was hurtling towards the water as swiftly as a hare hurtled towards its warren. With a splash, she threw herself into the water, sinking tail-lengths beneath the surface. A spray of bubbles alerted her of Tigerpaw's jump beside her, and the two came up for breath, gasping. "Who wants to play moss-ball?" Cinderpaw called, scooping a clump of moss off of the northern bank and rolling it into a rough approximation of a ball. "It'll dull my claws," Duckpaw called with an irritating air of superiority. Hollypaw rolled her eyes at Tigerpaw, and the tomg gave her a lopsided grin. The white-furred apprentice splashed them both with a swat from her tail and the pair rolled in the water, laughing. A few others piped a chorus of "We will!"'s, and Cinderpaw lobbed the ball towards Graypaw, who flailed for a moment when the moss hit her in the side of the head. Regaining control of her limbs, she swatted the ball to Tigerpaw. The latter caught it easily, rolling over and showing off for the other she-cats, and tossed it to Hollypaw. She snatched it from the air with a silver claw and flung it towards Furrypaw. The she-cat was rather unsuspecting and ducked beneath the water upon impact, mewing indignantly as she resurfaced. She was about to pick up the ball when a massive brown tom lunged towards her and grabbed the moss from her grip. He sent a tidal wave towards Hollypaw, who tried to paddle out of its way. "Watch it!" a voice snarled from near by. The bobbing apprentices turned in the water, smiles evaporating from their faces. A golden she-cat materialized from the trees, limping slightly from her twisted foot. More she-cats appeared behind her, faces popping out from between the trees. Hazelstreak, Crowblossom, and Amberflight crept out behind Kinkfoot, who stood frozen, snarling, at the bank of the river. "With the fights coming up, shouldn't you be practicing?" Amberflight said, her nasal voice making Hollypaw cringe. "Mom," whined Goldpaw, slapping the water with a delicate paw. "Don't embarrass me in front of my friends! Anyways, neither of us are going to win the fights. We'll just go to the nurseryplace! It's not like it's going to matter anyway. We're she-cats!" She said the last part with a purr. Hollypaw fought the urge to whisper That shouldn't matter! With a flick of his tail, Tigerpaw signaled to Hollypaw that the pair should get back to training as Amberflight had - harshly - advised. The aforementioned queen was bickering with her surprisingly-rebellious daughter, who seemed more intent on having fun than on training. Hollypaw was rather surprised that Amberflight even believed Goldpaw to have a chance - she-cats never ''made it to the Fire Fights (not that it should be that way, Hollypaw wanted to tell them all. Perhaps she would be the first she-cat to do so). The fun of the stream began to dissipate as Tigerpaw and Hollypaw trekked through the forest and towards camp. And as that exhiliration disappeared, the onset of terror began. Part Three: The Fourth Season, Moon One, Sunrises 1, 2 & 4 "Fight." Hollypaw was already trembling. Tigerpaw pressed reassuringly up against her, but his presence did nothing to assuage the anxiety twisting knots in her stomach. The screeches of the grappling Patchpaw and Goosepaw rang uncomfortably loud in Hollypaw's ears, and she was aware (owing to the mandatory lectures from Smokeburst) that such anxiety was commonly experienced by an apprentice's first battle. Every apprentice was aware that feigning sickness would not get them out of the fights, nor would faking weakness. Both would have you punished and pitted up again and again until enough effort was shown to deem a failure. "They'll be all right," Tigerpaw told her confidently as the apprentices tumbled past. "No one gets killed in these." "I suppose not," Hollypaw replied dubiously, wrapping her tail around her paws in discomfort. "But there was that one time last year when they did. You remember; Songbird took us. Dogpaw was there too, snarling at the cats. Egging on Rabbitflight - and Rabbitflight (then Rabbitpaw) ended up killing Aspenpaw. Songbird covered our eyes but--but we could still hear it, and smell the blood, and--" Hysteria edged Hollypaw's voice and she was aware that Tigerpaw had pulled her away in order to calm her down. The tom's green eyes locked onto Hollypaw's amber ones, and she gave a shaky exhale. "It's going to be all right," Tigerpaw promised, wrapping his tail around Hollypaw's. "You'll see." The pair was slipping back amongst the group when a cheer arose from the crowd. There was a nasty noise, causing Hollypaw's heartbeet to speed up, and then a hush as heavy pawsteps thudded into the clearing. A voice called out, "He's alive!" and then a number of jeers went up from the gathered cats. "Silence," demanded a deep voice that could be attributed only to the current leader, Patchstar. "Patchpaw is alive, for those of you too deaf to hear Smokeburst's diagnosis. Unfortunately," his voice was dripping with sarcasm here, "the aforementioned apprentice will not be continuing in the Fire Fight, per the ancient rules." Patchstar's voice took on a monotone quality here, as though he was repeating rules he'd repeated far too often for his own liking. "Goosepaw, however, has won this little...spat, and will advance in this tournament of sorts to attempt to compete in the final Fire Fight. At sunhigh, we will have the next battle. Palmclaw will have the names after we all have our share of prey. You are all free to go back to camp." Tigerpaw and Hollypaw made it to the front of the throng in time to see their splotched leader raising a paw to awkwardly pat the victor on the shoulder. Goosepaw had an over-confident, egotistical smirk on his face as his evil little eyes landed on Hollypaw's. He gave her a nod, face suddenly devoid of any emotion, and then went back to his lip-curling faux gratitude. All of the apprentices were too terrified at this point to eat any prey, so they all stood around in a fit of nerves, waiting for the irkingly-idle leader and his deputy and warriors to finish their lunch. When Palmclaw finally brushed the last vestiges of her meal mournfully from her mouth, the gaggle of cats rushed towards her, clamoring to hear the names of the cats who were to compete at sunhigh. The cream she-cat wasn't one to hold it over their heads, and so she replied swiftly and briefly, "Icepaw and Tigerpaw." The second name was a bit of a blow to Hollypaw's confidence, but before the pair was whisked off by Patchstar, the she-cat caught a glimpse of Icepaw murmuring something in Tigerpaw's ear. The concern and reluctance painted on Tigerpaw's face was enough to assure Hollypaw that Icepaw didn't even want to participate in the competition any further; Icepaw was insisting she let the reddish tom win. A slight, almost queasy nod from Tigerpaw told her that Tigerpaw agreed - Icepaw would be out by the end of the day and would not have to compete in any more competitions, lest she not try at all. "All right," Palmclaw called. "All apprentices and any warriors who would like to come, please follow me to the arena. It's been cleaned up, no worries," she said to the somewhat skeptical warriors hovering next to the entrance to camp. "But we have to hurry; the sun is nearly at its highest point." So Hollypaw consented to follow the gaggle of apprentices rushing after the single cream she-cat. Her light pelt was like a beacon amongst the dark ones following behind, and though she was currently lagging at the back of the group, Hollypaw made a beeline for the young, pretty deputy who was bobbing along the path and chatting somewhat nervously with Dogpaw - an apprentice who was nearly double her size. Sounding relieved to have another partner in converstion, Palmclaw mewed considerably more happily, "Hello there...Berrypaw, is it?" "Hollypaw," she corrected. "Hollypaw, sorry," Palmclaw replied in embarrassment. "Hollypaw, right. So, Hollypaw," she struggled to get the name into her head. Tortoiseshell she-cat, Hollypaw, amber eyes, Hollypaw. "Are you excited for the second spat of the day? Tigerpaw is a brilliant fighter, he was quite great in training, did you happen to ever see him? He's marvelous, really. I'm kind of hoping he becomes the next leader - don't tell Patchstar though. A lot of cats are hoping he gets to the Fire Fight, but not past the...you know...animals. I personally think that a brilliant fighter like him deserves the title of leader! But realistically, I'm hoping Icepaw doesn't hurt him. It's bound to be bloody, they're both seasoned apprentices..." "Tigerpaw's my friend," Hollypaw whispered queasily, nearly stopping in the center of the path. Palmclaw's cheery expression turned ashen and she wrapped her tail consolingly around the younger she-cat's shoulders, murmuring apologies mixed with condolences. "Here we are," Palmclaw yelled as cats filed into the clearing. "Everyone get in the spots you were assigned earlier to keep from too much confusion." Her voice was as shrill as the whistle of the wind in my ear, and I had to screw up my face and flatten my ears to keep from going completely deaf. "Today's second battle is between Icepaw," she gestured to the sandy-colored she-cat whose eyes earned her the name of Icepaw, "and Tigerpaw." Her tail flicked towards the tom in question, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer than absolutely necessary. "You may begin." Instantly, they began to circle each other, scoping out the strengths and weaknesses and examining muscle capacity and whatnot. Tigerpaw was the first to make a move, lashing out with one reddish paw and catching the she-cat off guard. She yelped as three red lines appeared on her leg and tucked into a roll, barrelling towards Tigerpaw and clipping him on one of his rear legs. His eyes narrowed, but Icepaw shot him a quick wink and he slowly eased out of his tense stance. With a yowl, Icepaw then flung herself towards the tom, claws outstretched and jaws opened wide to reveal pointy white teeth. Fastening thorn-sharp claws into Tigerpaw's shoulder, the she-cat began to pummel at his back, face hardened into a look of determination. As Tigerpaw rolled over to smash her between the dusty floor of the clearing and his none-too-light body, the look in his eyes told Hollypaw that Icepaw had lied to gain an advantage; she lured Tigerpaw into a false sense of security in order to take him by surprise with a supposed slip of the claws and teeth. She would be able to take him down easily, convince him that she didn't want to win - and after she did win, she would pull the same trick on the dumb, hunky toms. She'd be the first she-cat to attain the suffix of -star, and then she'd rule the-- Icepaw had the breath whisked from her lungs when Tigerpaw flung himself towards her with the speed of the sky, his shoulder slamming into her chest and bowling her over onto her back. The lighter apprentice had risen onto her hindlegs in an attempt to trap Tigerpaw beneath her and shred his tail, but had been caught off-guard by Tigerpaw's speed and ferocity. In the coming moments, it was over. Tigerpaw's claws were at Icepaw's throat and the she-cat was pinned to the dusty floor. Her startlingly pale eyes were as round as spiders and she looked ready to faint. Already, a faint line of blood beaded at her throat, but her legs were stuck in a sort of crouching position beneath Tigerpaw and so she couldn't maneuver out. Icepaw's shoulders were pressed into the dust, and she writhed for a moment before giving up with a moan. "Tigerpaw will be advancing," Patchstar said, lacking his usual bravado. He looked somewhat subdued. "Everyone go back to camp. The next fight will take place at sunrise tomorrow, the participating cats will be woken a bit prior to the battle in order to prepare." And that was that. ∞ "Get up." Bolting upright, Hollypaw nearly shredded her ears on the roof of the den. She peered around in slight bewilderment, then spied Suncloud, one of the fighting warriors and the second advisor to the Fire Fights, lurking in the gloom. His eyes flashed as he searched for Hollypaw's opponent, and though it would have been an advantage to hang around and see who she was fighting, Hollypaw hurried out of the den. A couple of cats were lazing about camp. Suncloud emerged from the apprentices' den a moment later with Dogpaw lumbering behind him, and Hollypaw's heart sank to her stomach. There was no way she could trump Dogpaw in a fight. That was it. She was out. She hoped her life would be spared - they had all seen what Goosepaw did to Patchpaw - but with Dogpaw, one could never be so sure. The brown apprentice was easily the toughest cat under the age of four seasons in the entire Clan. Word had it that he went to every fight when he was a kit and had hung around the victors. He had witnessed a cat shred a fox to strips of skin and disembowel a badger, all the while surveying the scenes with a faint smile on his face (or so was told by the gossipping queens we visited ever so often). But when it came time for the cat to fight the leader of ShadeClan, Dogpaw (then Dogkit) was rooting for Patchstar. And by the ancestors did Patchstar mutilate his opponent. They say Dogpaw was never quite right from then on; he was bent on destroying practically every cat who came into his path. In front of his superiors, he was all poper and suave, but around the other apprentices he was downright terrifying. After a hasty meal consisting of a shriveled shrew resting at the bottom of the fresh-kill pile, Hollypaw stood up and stretched. There was something inside of her that had completely shut off all fear and nervousness. She ''knew ''what was coming and her being had accepted it and was already letting go. So it was with an almost mechanical gait that she followed Palmclaw down the beaten path to the arena of the previous day. The sand felt smooth beneath her paws but grated uncomfortably against her claws. The entire site was tranquil, save for the big, brutish tom now entering. The temperature in the arena dropped a little, along with Hollypaw's heart as she saw the ever-present malicious gleam in Dogpaw's eyes. He knew he would win. And so did Hollypaw. "Are you ready?" Palmclaw's words stirred the hair in Hollypaw's ear, and she felt herself giving a weak nod. She believed she was ready, her body and mind told her she was ready, but the feeling in her gut was a whole different story. Perhaps it was her heart that was discouraging her - in fact, her entire body was all messed up with this adrenaline-hyperactivity-encouragement-discouragemenat dung - but she couldn't shake the feeling that something here was wrong. Not the fairness of the fight, because that was definitely skewed, but there was something about Dogpaw that was...off. The arena slowly filled as cats took their alloted places. Some seemed surprised by the fighting pairing, but there were others who had noticed the absence of Dogpaw and Hollypaw - Tigerpaw, for instance. The tom in question was sitting in Hollypaw's spot, his fluffy red tail curled around his paws and his green eyes somber. Even he knew Hollypaw would not emerge from this fight victorious. Patchstar's words were loud enough for the entire throng to hear. "Fight." Dogpaw lurched forward unsteadily as the pair circled each other, then in a sudden and unpredictable movement, he lunged for Hollypaw's throat. Feeling adrenaline kick in and clear her mind, Hollypaw ducked and rolled easily to the side. There was definitely something off with the burly tom, but there was only one thought fixated in Hollypaw's mind, and that was solely to survive this madness. Claws raked down her side, causing a pain almost unimaginable. She hoped she wouldn't be the next Aspenpaw, lying gutted on the sandy floor of the arena. Instead of going limp and feigning unconsciousness from the blow to her head, Hollypaw surged forward with a sudden burst of strength and swiped her claws across Dogpaw's face. He howled in sudden pain, though Hollypaw had done nothing more than give him a couple of scratches across the nose. Reeling backwards, Dogpaw recoverd quickly and leapt for her paws, a move the apprentices had been taught to easily avoid. Though she thought cats would never use the moves they learned in training, she was soon proved wrong. Dogpaw was kicking and sweeping and batting at Hollypaw's ears. Her defense was strong, fortunately, and she fended off the attacks with all of the counter-moves they had been taught in the training. This was nothing more than a mock battle; the blood on her flank was already drying and her exhiliration levels were already beginning to drop. So with a sudden bout of confidence, Hollypaw leapt. She landed directly behind him, hind paws catching on his stick-skinny tail. He was hampered by her grip, and was too late in turning. Hollypaw had already latched onto his back, her claws fastened in his shoulders. She was hanging on for dear life as the tom began to buck uncontrollably, driven by some force other than adrenaline, fear, or exhaustion. Large red welts began to appear as Hollypaw's claws shredded the skin and fur around Dogpaw's shoulders, created by his violent movement. Eventually, taking much more time that it would have for Hollypaw, Dogpaw realized he couldn't shake the smaller she-cat off. He swiveled his head, trying to bite at her paws, but realized his attempts were fruitless. And so he did the only other thing his brutish mind could come up with and comprehend. He rolled over. All breath was knocked out of Hollypaw's lungs as she was smashed against the sandy ground of the arena. She felt Dogpaw's weight crushing her. His bristly fur clogged her nostrils and her mouth and not only was she unable to inhale but her lungs were unable to function. She was writhing beneath him, her vision began to cloud and she imagined her ancestors drifting down from the sky to come lift her up to their fanks; she was going to be the next Aspenpaw. She would die by asphyxiation, she would-- And then the weight was lifted off of her. "Dogpaw is the winner," Patchstar's voice shouted, and Hollypaw took a rattling breath. Palmclaw was beside her in a moment, helping her up and passing her down the long line of cats to escort her to Smokeburst back in the medicine den. She felt as though her very being had been crushed; not only her lungs and her body, but her strength and her state of mind. There was no way she could pave the path to innovation for she-cats anymore, she was just another one who tried. And another one who failed. Dogpaw was sent to limp along behind her in order to clean the cuts on his shoulder that were now oozing blood and some other liquid whose stench made Hollypaw's weak body cringe. It was a haze of herbs and scents and poultices and leaves and moss as Hollypaw was settled down in the medicine den, too weak to do much but breathe and listen. Smokeburst patted pungent herbs onto her chest and sent her off to sleep. But there was something about nearly dying that, you know, kept a cat awake. So Hollypaw was conscious of Smokeburst's dismayed cries as Dogpaw collapsed in front of her, tongue lolling from his mouth. She heard Smokeburst's urgent calls for Patchstar and Palmclaw, and then the whispered conversation. ''Illegal use of catmint, they said, unfair advantage. Smokeburst's discovery of catmint on Dogpaw's breath lead all three to believe that he had taken it as a performance-booster, in a massive quantity that eventually knocked him out with its giddiness. And Hollypaw was conscious of being declared victorious. ∞ ∞ "Hollypaw, you're covered ''in blood! I can't believe they didn't get you cleaned up. This is an outrage! Winterpaw, don't you agree? Look at your sister; she's all bruised and scratched. Lord above, they certainly gave you quite the beating, didn't they? Hmph! It'd be so much easier if this leadership was handled diplomatically, where the deputy became leader. Like in the old times--" "Mum," Hollypaw intervened, "I'm fine, these are just the poultices working their way into my fur. I can't take a wash until Smokeburst gives me the 'okay', but then I promise you, I will be squeaky clean." "Good, good," clucked Songbird, swiveling her head to focus her attention on her second daughter. "Winterpaw, did you hear that? Poultices. Take a good day or two to go into effect and then you've got to wash them out nice and well to make sure they leave no remnants in your fur." Winterpaw sighed, and Hollypaw had to stifle a grin. Their mother was always on about Winterpaw becoming Smokeburst's apprentice and the future medicine cat of ShadeClan. Between the other three attenders, there was massive competition with who would be the next medicine cat. Songbird was determined it was to be her daughter - as the other queens were determined it would be ''their ''daughters (or son, in the case of Ashpaw). Winterpaw, however, was perfectly comfortable with moving on to be a normal warrior with her sister. Smile fading as her wounds began to sting, Hollypaw said a quick farewell to both her mother and her sister and whisked off down the tunnel back towards the main camp. She had an entire moon of long days before her and it was best to get sleep while she still could. Part Four: The Fourth Season, Moon Three, Sunrises 17 & 21 Hollypaw dragged herself from the clearing. To both her left and right, she was greeted with triumphant cheers. Tails wrapped around her shoulders and bodies pressed against her flank. Purrs were murmured in her ears and praise showered down upon her from every angle. Boos were sent sprawling across the arena behind her, but they were nearly drowned out in the crescendo of voices that buoyed her back to the main camp. "That was ''amazing," Furrypaw crowed, her pale eyes shining with enthusiasm. Her littermate nodded, opening her jaws with a reply already on the tip of her tongue, but Tigerpaw cut her off. The red-brown tom shouldered his way to Hollypaw's right and pressed his pelt close against hers, letting some of the blood from the cut on her side seep into his own fur without a care. "Hollypaw," her best friend began in an undertone, in a voice only she could hear, "Hollypaw, we need to make it to Smokeburst, okay? You're hurt. Goldpaw's already been taken there but she managed to tear something. I don't want you out of the Fire Fight because you refused to see her, okay?" Hollypaw muttered assent, leaning heavily against Tigerpaw. As the rest of the former's entourage began to dwindle, her friend stayed by her side and ended up heaving her into the medicine den as her strength and the rush of adrenaline began to fade. "Ah, Hollypaw!" Smokeburst said crisply, in a voice that echoed too loudly in Hollypaw's ears and rang around the crowded medicine den for far too long. "Need a bit of patching up, eh? Come here, dear, over--oh, Lord above, you do ''need some medical attention. Surprised that one--" here her eyes flickered over to the stagnant form of Goldpaw "--managed to give you a scratch at all!" "She didn't," Tigerpaw said quietly. Hollypaw hadn't even been aware that he was still in the den -- but here he was, standing guard just beyond the crown of her head. "Goldpaw managed to fling Hollypaw off of her and she went sprawling, yes, into the edge of the arena. That's from one of the oaks." Smokeburst's boisterous laugh spurred a groan from Hollypaw's throat. "You'll be all right," Tigerpaw promised. "You'll be all right." And so she was. ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ The next couple of days dragged on, with each sunset begetting the elimination of a couple more cats. Hollypaw remained in the medicine den until sunhigh the day following her nasty spat with the trees surrounding the arena, until the poultice on her flank had flaked off and left the skin as good as new -- if not embellished with a fresh, fading pink scar. Four sunrises following Hollypaw's most recent fight found her and Tigerpaw seated on the bank of the river, watching as a few of the Eliminated -- Cinderpaw, Fluffypaw, and Fuzzypaw -- splashed around in the shallows. A couple of tail-lengths away, a convalescing Patchpaw sat, half-hidden by the tall fronds and with patches of blood and dried herbs staining his pelt in place of the many spots of dirt and grime that had given him his name. Since his Fight, he had been somewhat reluctant to talk about -- or even attend the Fights, though Patchstar had made it clear that every apprentice's presence was mandatory -- what had happened to him as Goosepaw nearly slaughtered him, or the following sunrises he'd spent in a comatose state in the medicine den. Most cats avoided him. Hollypaw and Tigerpaw were of the aforementioned category. "There's another Fight this evening," Tigerpaw mewed, broaching the one subject Hollypaw had been hoping to skirt around. Hollypaw's stomach sank to somewhere near the bones of her grandmother. "No question who it's going to be," she said gloomily, scarring the ground with a flick of her claws. "My last fight was four sunrises ago, and there are only six of us left. You, me...Blackpaw. Toadpaw, and Largepaw...and Goosepaw." "Oh, come off it," Tigerpaw mewed bracingly, "Goosepaw's last fight was six sunrises ago and he hasn't been put up yet!" At Hollypaw's wide-eyed expression, the supportive smile that had been dancing around Tigerpaw's lips faded abruptly, and a sickened look took its place. "Oh, Lord above. Hollypaw--" Her only response was a nervous lick of the lips. For a minute, everything was silent. Then, with a heavy blow of her paw, Cinderpaw sent a massive wave of water roaring towards the bank and the resounding droplets ended up dousing both Hollypaw and Tigerpaw. Patchpaw had managed to shy away from the deluge, and emerged from his protective barrier with a smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Tigerpaw -- who, in all of the moons Hollypaw had known him had said naught but a kind word to everyone -- shot him a furious look and fluffed out his amber pelt. "Come on," he meowed, "let's get back to camp." When the pair had shaken out their fur and gotten their paws back on the familiar, down-trodden path back to camp, they began to speak. Hollypaw was the first to open her jaws, though when she did she stopped almost dead in her tracks. The fur along her spine was raised. Then, out of nowhere, a matted ball of brown-and-white launched itself from the bushes and careened towards Hollypaw. It hit her like the stench of rogues on the edge of their territory -- fast, mephitic, and took her breath away. She rolled as soon as the cat made impact, doing her best to tuck her chin down to her chest and curl her extremities in upon themselves as she was sent sprawling, but the force of the collision made any such endeavor next to impossible. Her limbs got tangled up in each other, her fur was spiked and collecting dust and leaves as she tumbled across the path and into the thick undergrowth. Something sharp sliced at her face and then she felt the familiar sensation of claws pricking into her skin. The tang of blood filled the air. Hollypaw, struggling to stay conscious as the world loomed dizzily before her, staggered to her feet and wobbled around to face her attacker. He rose above her with the height of a thousand trees and he took up nearly the entire space between the two trees from which they'd tumbled. His eyes -- amber -- glowed malignantly as he towered above our weary protagonist. All of this Hollypaw observed in a moment, for in the next second he was bearing down upon her again with a paw outstretched and thorn-sharp claws unsheathed. Using what little strength she had left from the training that morning, Hollypaw rolled to her right and dodged the heavy blow. She scrambled to her feet and lurched back towards the path, yowling as Goosepaw lumbered after her. There was a moment where both she and Tigerpaw stood, transfixed, as an eneraged Goosepaw emerged from the brush with twigs in his fur and dirt smeared across his cheeks, and then they were both alight with movement, diving to their respective sides and shouting for someone from camp. Hollypaw, her tortoiseshell and white pelt becoming a blur, raced back towards the river with Goosepaw hot on her tail. Tigerpaw had fled, presumably towards camp in search of help, and she was nearly defenseless. Even as she slipped into the churning stream she felt her legs go weak and her mind succumb to the ebb and flow of the surging river. A couple tail-lengths downstream, Cinderpaw and Fluffypaw were still sending a spray of water at each other, but Fuzzypaw had caught wind of the commotion. She was ogling Hollypaw, who was gesticulating frantically and struggling to paddle towards them. Goosepaw entered the river with a splash behind her, his heavier, broader form and thicker pelt dragging him almost immediately towards the rocky bottom of the water. He seemed to have more energy than Hollypaw, though, because he struck out strongly and began to swim with frightening agility and speed. Hollypaw's movements grew more frantic. And, and, and-- And. Hollypaw lurched awake, her breaths coming in short, breathy gasps. Her heart was still palpitating, its rhythm in tune with the blood that roared in her ears. For a minute, she just sat still, leaning back in her nest and then jerking back up to perform a quick scan of the den. Goosepaw's brown-and-white pelt was still near the rear, curled up just beside his littermate, Duckpaw. To Hollypaw's right, Icepaw gave a massive yawn and rolled over. Tigerpaw's familiar pelt flanked Hollypaw on the other side. Silence lay heavy over the camp. Somewhere off in the distance, the throaty call of an owl pierced the veil of quiet. There was a murmur from the warriors' den, sprawling and massive beneath the entertwined branches of a hazel bush, and then Forestblossom squeezed herself out from under the foliage and headed for the dirtplace. Hollypaw watched her with heavy eyelids, waiting as the smoky she-cat plodded back into camp minutes later with a grimace written all over her shrewd features. It was only once the mentor had settled back into her nest -- to the audible moaning and grumbling of her Clanmates (Forestblossom was never one for tact, and so Hollypaw knew that the rest of the warriors were done for when the latter hissed a forceful, "''Shut it!") -- that Hollypaw eased her own form out of the den and crept to the edge of camp. Still blinking the vestiges of drowsiness from her eyes, Hollypaw stretched one leg and then the other, and then took off full-tilt. Tigerpaw had been right, she mused. In spite of the whole dream bit -- Goosepaw was the last one, aside from me, to Fight. We're going to be paired up, and there's simply no way it can be avoided. I'm going to have to fight the toughest tom in the Clan and I'm going to ''lose, ''and Lord knows if I'll even make it out alive. Her muscles were burning by the time she made it to the training hollow. It was, as predicted, empty. There were no signs of life -- no cats, of course, and no prey. The leaves in the trees that surrounded the dusty clearing were twitching slightly in the breeze coming in off of the stream, rustling every few moments as if to remind Hollypaw she wasn't alone. The air was fresh, the tang of moisture in the air hinting at the next day's forecast. Hollypaw took a seat in the center of the hollow and inhaled deeply. She visualized her environment. The towering oak straight ahead, its bark swathed with leaves from the base of its trunk to the tip of the branches. A sign of sickness, Winterpaw had told her once. To the tree's slight left was the down-trodden path that led back to camp, well-worn from seasons of pawsteps. There was a smattering of rocks lining the rest of the clearing; some put there by the cats, and others simply left there by the swell of the river in the Great Flood all of those seasons ago. There were a couple of rosebushes framing the background of the rows of rocks -- Forestblossom always said that they made training "more fun". Hollypaw crouched, pressing her belly low to the ground. Her eyes stayed closed. Then, she leapt into the air, spinning towards her tail and tucking the rest of her limbs in as she began to fall back towards the ground. She landed in the dust, the impact shoving all of the breath out of her lungs. There was a crack from somewhere in her shoulder, and when Hollypaw rolled back onto her stomach, her front legs began to ache. Nevertheless, she pulled herself back to her paws and spun to face the tree again. Closing her eyes once more, she sprung into the air -- this time turning in the other direction and tucking her tail and legs in earlier. When she landed, it was still a bit painful, but the tremor that rocked through her shoulders was less so. Hollypaw trained. For the next three hours, she trained. She jumped, and dove, and slithered beneath an invisible opponent. She leapt high, soaring a couple of tail lengths into the air and then ducking into a ball and rolling across the dusty clearing. Dirt matted in her fur and she looked like some sort of thistly creature from the Night Woods by the time she took a breather just as the sun was beginning to come up. A new scent bathed the clearing. Hollypaw froze. "It's okay, Hollypaw. It's just me." Fuzzypaw padded past Hollypaw and sat opposite her, her snowy white back facing the sprawling oak. Her blue eyes were soft, and warm, and when Fuzzypaw smiled, Hollypaw could see that the feather she-cat meant no harm. "What are you doing here?" Hollypaw asked warily, taking a few steps back and curling her tail around her feet. Fuzzypaw shrugged her narrow shoulders, offering only a "couldn't sleep" as a response. Though Hollypaw knew she could (a.) take her in a fight and (b.) there was little damage that Fuzzypaw's slight build could manage to inflict, she was still indisputably cautious. The Fire Fights were dangerous things, and even though Fuzzypaw had already been Eliminated, nasty things had been known to go down. They sat in awkward silence for a minute, then Fuzzypaw spoke. "I know I'm not the best of fighters, but I could still give you a couple of pointers. If you like," she added quickly, giving her chest an embarrassed lick. "That would be great," Hollypaw mewed. She took a few steps back and, at the flick of Fuzzypaw's tail, leapt head-long (litearlly) into the fluid move she'd been practicing since moonhigh. Fuzzypaw's blue eyes followed her like one of her own stalking prey, trained on every joint with the careful precision of any training warrior. Fuzzypaw would make a great mentor one day -- but Lord knew if Hollypaw would be around to see it. "Keep your tail out, for balance," Fuzzypaw advised, once Hollypaw had again tumbled unstably into the dust. "And tuck your paws in even earlier -- you'll hit the ground, maybe, but then you'll roll. If Goosepaw comes at you, you'll probably be able to either dodge him or roll right under him. You're smaller than he is, but you still pack a lot of punch," she added ruefully. She had not forgotten their Fight. Hollypaw felt a pang of regret, but squared her shoulders and, with no response, obliged. Just after she'd flicked her tail out and held it stiff against the cool night breeze, she tucked her paws against her chest and hit the ground squarely. She rolled forward, but this time she managed to control her movements and duck out of the roll as she pleased. Hollypaw leapt up with a mrow! of delight and turned to face Fuzzypaw. There was a little bit of sadness outlined on the slightly older she-cat's face. Hollypaw deflated a little bit. "That was great," Fuzzypaw mewed. "But next time, see if you can angle your paws a little differently..." The night wore on; until sunhigh, they trained. TBC